Dead Chaos

  *****

  The bindings hadn’t been hard to escape. Kyle Pearson threw one long, pensive glance back at the room he’d occupied for the past couple days with Anya. Finally get to share a room before marriage and the hourglass was running out of sand. He went to the double-hung window and worked on the latch. This took much longer than he’d expected. Already the virus was wreaking havoc on his motor skills, making something as simple as unhooking the locking mechanism a difficult and painful task.

  Outside the sun was shining brightly. After pulling the window open, he had to reevaluate his choices. Even if he managed to slide down the roof, the fall would break a bone or two but may not kill him. At this very moment the love of his life and the people he’d grown up with were having a family meeting, deciding who would put the bullet in him and where it would be done. He didn’t want any of them to face the guilt of shooting him in the head, especially Anya.

  Quietly opening the bedroom door, he made his way to the top of the stairs. Avoiding the stairs that creaked, he debated whether or not to try for the front door. He could hear the family emotionally debating in the living room what would happen when he turned. Levi, out of love for his oldest daughter, volunteered to do the deed when the time came.

  Anya, between bouts of tears, whimpered, “Please let me chain him up. My powers are stronger than they used to be. Maybe I can learn to fight the virus. I could fix him.” His stubborn girl, she was still in denial but there was no saving him. She knew as well as everyone else her abilities didn’t extend to anything like curing the undead.

  “Anya, we can’t keep him here. It’d be a threat to our safety,” Viktor spoke gently but firmly.

  “He’s right, sweetheart. Kyle wouldn’t want his reanimated body chained up in a shed, tormenting you and everyone else. It won’t be Kyle anymore, only his infected corpse. We’ll give him the peace he deserves,” Levi insisted.

  When he heard Anya become hysterical, he wanted to be the one in there, giving comfort. Instead, leaning against the wall for support, he left the entryway, heading for the door near the back of the house that led to the walkout basement. He almost fell down those stairs when the muscles in his legs spasmed painfully. Holding tightly onto the handrail saved him from tumbling down.

  Kyle left the house through the walkout basement. Nacho greeted him without barking and Kyle quietly ordered him to stay. He made his way to the old school bus, refusing to take any more glances back at his home and the girl he didn’t want to leave behind. Kyle clambered into the driver’s seat of the silver Volkswagen Golf he and Viktor had been fixing up. He chose the Golf because it was car least likely to be missed. With a deep breath, he turned the engine over and began the descent down the mountain.

  Kyle reached the main road, rolling down the windows so he could feel the warm breeze as he drove. It was becoming more difficult to focus on the road. Moments of lucidity were frequently mixed with mini-blackouts that grayed his vision for seconds at a time.

  He glanced down at the picture of himself and Anya from when they were only thirteen. Even then he knew she would always be his girl. They were so innocent back then, having no idea the following year would begin a new life of survival and violence.

  Kyle swerved onto the state highway which headed north out of Breckenridge. A few minutes later, he came to as he almost ran off the road. Righting the wheel, he gripped it tightly, putting everything he had into concentrating on the road. It was going to happen soon, death and after-death. The vitality of the sun in the sky and the spring growth around him mocked his weakened, diseased body. With a glance at the gun on the seat beside him, he began looking for a side road to pull off onto.

  Kyle gained consciousness with his head throbbing, crashed in a ditch with smoke billowing from the crushed hood of the Volkswagen. He turned the ignition over, but nothing happened. He cursed loudly and resigned himself to making his way on foot. He needed to be further away from the cabin. He didn’t want his body ever found by the others. Let nature bury or devour him.

  He reached for the gun on the passenger seat only to find it gone. Scrabbling around for it, he couldn’t find it in the car. Fuck! It must’ve flown out the window when he crashed. Kyle irritably swung the door open and even that task took much of his energy. Stumbling around, he searched the forest floor. Several yards away, amongst dry foliage, he found the gun.

  He couldn’t get the safety off, his fingers weren’t working properly, too stiff and cramped. He screamed into the sky and was answered by the birds who took flight. Glancing to the road sign at the side of the highway, he read Welcome to beautiful Frisco, Colorado. He patted his breast pocket where the picture rested, now his most precious possession, and limped into the woods instead of heading toward the town.

  He wouldn’t give up. He would walk until he found a cliff. He would end this before he became one of those monsters. Walking deeper into the woods, his determination drove him past the pain in his legs, the sadness in his chest.

  Leaning against a boulder, he just needed to take a short rest then he’d be on his way. He felt dizzy, so closed his eyes until it passed. Kyle’s last coherent thoughts were of hazel eyes, blonde hair and kisses that drove him crazy.

  Milky eyes opened and he continued on his way. His gait was changed and suddenly he was starving.